


The Boy Next Door

by allons_y_johnlocked



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, 221B Ficlet, Drunk John, John Watson - Freeform, John and Sherlock - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Sherlock Is Bad At Flirting, Sherlock Plays the Violin, Sherlock is Married to His Work, Teenlock, balletlock, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:17:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2699357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allons_y_johnlocked/pseuds/allons_y_johnlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson gets drunk and locked out of his apartment. He turns to his mysterious neighbor, Sherlock Holmes, to lend him a little more than a helping hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Next Door

John stumbled down the hall toward his flat. Maybe he had drunk a little too much but he certainly wasn’t wasted. He tripped a little, but caught himself on the wall. Ok, maybe he was a just a bit wasted. As he lumbered along, he fumbled around in his pockets for his keys. “Fuuck,” he whispered with the sudden realization that he had lost them. Maybe his landlady had a spare. He glanced at his watch… 3:49 a.m. No one’s up this late. He was playing with the idea of sleeping in the hall when he heard the sound of a beautiful violin from the flat opposite his. He immediately pounded on the door. Just seconds later the door swung open to reveal a tall, handsome man with a tangle of dark brown curls who towered over John.  
“Hello, I’m Johnnn Watson.. I, er, well I uhm…” he mumbled, not really sure what his plan was.

“You were wondering if I could let you in my flat because you’re locked out of yours, yes?” The tall man’s voice rumbled in John’s ears. This man’s a mind reader, John thought in his mystified state of drunkenness.  
“Who are you?” John whispered in amazement. His neighbor looked down at the smaller blonde and rose an eyebrow "um, yes, hello I'm Sherlock Holmes... And, you’re wasted" Sherlock leaned out the door frame, looking down the hall before looking the other man over. "Come in. You can stay here until Mrs. Hudson gets up," Sherlock sighed as he led John into his flat. 

John looked around the room. His flat was set up much like this one…Although, he kept his rather tidy. Random things were thrown about. Chemicals, empty vials, books and newspapers littered the floor, and, what looked like a skull sat on the mantel. John sat down in a large, comforting arm chair. This may not be his first choice of accommodations but it certainly beat sleeping in the hallway.  
Sherlock sighed and sat across from John in a beaten leather chair "So, you’re my neighbor.” John cleared his throat, "ahem, yes,” he paused to burp, “Sorry… What was your name again?" John slurred. He looked at the pale man opposite him through hooded eye lids.

Sherlock laughed a bit "it's Sherlock Holmes. And you’re John, correct?"  
"Yeeep, John Watson in the flesh,” he giggled, “I guess we haven't ever really met.” John leaned back into his chair and continued, "I don't think I've ever seen you … And- and I've lived ten feet away from your front door for a month and a half!" John laughed at his joke. He felt an alcoholic stupor cover him like a thick blanket.  
Sherlock smiled shyly and looked down at his feet "I keep to myself whenever possible…” he tilted his head and smirked, “Whenever I do leave, it’s to help the idiots at Scotland Yard with a case. I’m a consulting detective, the only one in the world."  
Sherlock paused for a moment "How much did you drink? Did you forget about Mary? That IS what you were trying to accomplish…wasn’t it?” Sherlock held a cocky grin on his face, but it fell immediately when he saw the look of hurt and shock cross John’s face. John’s eyes opened a little wider as he sucked in a sharp breath, “Ho-how… how’d you know ab-about Mary?”  
John was confused; This man is a fucking wizard. What kind of sorcery is he using? The alcohol was not helping him comprehend the situation.  
“Well you weren’t exactly quiet when you were…” Sherlock made an awkward hand gesture; John stifled a giggle. “These walls are practically paper thin, John.”  
Amazing, John thought, this man knows everything.  
John immediately felt blood creeping into his face. “So, do you have a girlfriend?” John inquired. “No, not really my area.” Sherlock’s icy eyes bore into John, the latter could swear he could feel Sherlock’s low voice vibrate in the air. “Ohh, a boyfriend?” even in John’s own ears the words felt immature. Sherlock just shook his head no.  
“Sherlock, she was the ONE, ya know? I thought I would love her-Mary- into my old age… maybe I will. But I always thought the feeling would be mutual.” Sherlock could see John’s eyes begin to swim with tears by the time he had finished the sentence. “She went behind my back. Like, who does that? Sleep with my mate…befor—“  
Sherlock cut him off before the pity party could continue any longer. “You cared about her more than she was able to reciprocate. Move on, John.” Sherlock tried his hardest to give a reassuring smile to John. John sucked in an unsteady breath, “You think? You’re probably right, I thi-” He was promptly interrupted by Sherlock’s ringing phone. He muttered a few agreements into the phone while a flash of excitement crossed his face.  
“Ahem, John?” Sherlock got merely a grunt in response. “John, I have to leave. I’m going to unlock your flat on my way out.” John snapped his eyes open. Sherlock was now standing in front of John, looking at the ground guiltily. “I don’t have the key,” John stated, “can’t I just stay here?”  
“I can, um, lock pick it. If you’d like, but I, um, have to leave so…” Sherlock was still avoiding eye contact with John. John yelped a “fantastic” as he sprung from his arm chair and made his way to the door. Sherlock only took seconds tinkering with the lock before the door popped open. As soon as he heard that sound, Sherlock promptly turned on his heels for his flat.  
“Wait, Sherlock! Why didn’t you do that earlier?” John looked puzzled although a smile crept on his face as he asked. Sherlock turned slowly to face the blonde. “I don’t have, er, friends. I wanted to get to know you, John.” Sherlock dropped his gaze to the floor. “I’m glad. I’ll talk to you tomorrow then?” John looked hopefully up at his neighbor. That was probably the first time anyone had seen a genuine smile from Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
